CD Odyssey Disc 1111: Tom Waits

Welcome back to the Odyssey. I’ve got a lot to say about this next album so let’s get right to it.

Disc 1111 is… The Heart of Saturday Night

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1974

What’s up with the Cover? Just another night on the town in what I think is…the forties? Much like Tom Waits’ music, this cover is hard to date but feels like it is from an earlier era. Regardless, we’ve all been this guy (or girl – pick one) out into the early hours trying to create some memories and maybe feeling the beginnings of a tension headache (or sore feet – pick one).

How I Came To Know It: I originally discovered Tom Waits through his debut album “Closing Time” but it took me a long time to dig deeper. Once I did, “The Heart of Saturday Night” was one of my early acquisitions, but I can’t remember why. The reason is lost in the mists of time.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 17 of Tom Waits’ studio albums which is most – but not all – of them (I previously sold “One from the Heart” after much hand-wringing.

“The Heart of Saturday Night” does pretty well amidst tough competition. I rank it 6^th, bumping “Bad As Me”, “Bone Machine” and “Heartattack and Vine” all down one spot in the process. This is also the last of my Tom Waits’ albums waiting for review, so here’s a full recap.

1. Mule Variations: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 970)
2. Rain Dogs: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 619)
3. Swordfishtrombone: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 149)
4. Frank’s Wild Years: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 280)
5. Closing Time: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 40)
6. The Heart of Saturday Night: 4 stars (reviewed right here)
7. Bad as Me: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 775)
8. Bone Machine: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 183)
9. Heartattack and Vine: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 346)
10. Alice: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1061)
11. Blue Valentine: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 98)
12. Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 445)
13. Blood Money: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 235)
14. Real Gone: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 852)
15. Foreign Affairs: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 193)
16. Small Change: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 349)
17. One From the Heart: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 935)
18. Nighthawks at the Diner: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 147)

I can’t remember why I kept “Nighthawks” but I’m going to check into that and maybe say goodbye to it as well. The rest are keepers.

Ratings: 4 stars

As a young man moving I moved from an isolated small town to a city. Not a big one, but big to me. I was always drawn to the energy a city takes on in the wee hours of the morning. When the sun first goes down the structure of the day tries for a few hours to keep order, but the longer the lamps are lit, the more a new set of rules establishes itself. It is dreamlike, mysterious and a little dangerous if you don’t let yourself sway to its rhythms, or if you sway too hard.

“The Heart of Saturday Night” is Tom Waits’ love song to night and the city. It feels like the backdrop to a detective novel, or maybe just an ode to all the people caught out in the pre-dawn.

Individually, the album has high points, but it is how Waits sets the album as a mood piece that is a greater triumph. He blends the easy listening style of Frank Sinatra (or maybe a drunken Dean Martin), late night lounge jazz and backstreet blues, bringing it all into one tent. He grounds it there with gravelly vocals that walk lazily in and off the beat with sandpaper grace.

The album begins as late night evenings often do, with a bold promise to hit the town and hit ‘er hard. Or as Waits sings on “New Coat of Paint”:

“Let's put a new coat of paint
On this lonesome old town
Set 'em up, we'll be knockin' 'em down
You wear a dress
Baby I'll wear a tie
We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon
In that burgundy sky”

Spoiler alert: if the moon isn’t bloodshot yet, it is going to be before the night is over. Better still from “San Diego Serenade”:

“I never saw the mornin' 'til I stayed up all night
I never saw the sunshine 'til you turned out the light
I never saw my hometown until I stayed away too long
I never heard the melody until I needed the song”

Every time I hear Waits warble these beautiful lines I am taken back to the few times I’ve stayed up all night. Maybe I was watching some sporting event in another time zone, maybe I worked a night shift and was driving home or maybe I was just getting good and drunk. I can say that most of the times you do it, you remember it, and Waits brings it all back to you.

Whatever the case, Waits takes that moment and digs deeper, reminding us that big events happen in the moment, and you can’t fully imagine how they’ll go until you’re in them. Or as Waits sums it up:

“I never saw your heart 'til someone tried to steal it away
I never saw your tears until they rolled down your face.”

Waits’ night shifts through the various characters you might encounter in the dead of night. Folks at the bus station and truck drivers pulling a late shift both get their due.  “Shiver Me Timbers” is the song of a sailor bidding farewell to his loved ones, heading out at a strange hour because that’s when the wind and the tide were right. “Shiver Me Timbers” has become a phrase for mockery and bad pirate impressions, but Waits reclaims it and it gives you the shivers all over again, right down into the bones.

It isn’t all doom and gloom out on the town, though. “(Looking For)” the Heart of Saturday Night” is the ultimate drinking out weekend evening, with all the weariness of the week still hanging off our hero, he gets himself dressed up and hits the bar. The song has the buzz of pool halls, the feeling of having your arm around your girl and even a little melancholy after one too many – making everything seem so much more important.

That song comes at the end of the Side One and is bookended by the end of Side Two with “The Ghosts of Saturday Night (After Hours at Napoleone’s Pizza House)”. A couple of songs that need a little less title, but like a late night out, it is hard to follow a single plot line for too long.

“Ghosts…” is all lounge piano and Waits crooning, as he gets down to the last people standing with the sun just around the corner. A solitary sailor “Who spends the facts of his life like small change on strangers” dreams of a waitress with “Maxwell House eyes
and marmalade thighs with scrambled yellow hair.” That’s Waits reminding us if you’re still up it’s time for breakfast. The early risers are starting to rise, and the day isn’t here yet, but it is close; threatening to dampen down the magic and get about its business again.

The album starts with a playful energy. Through the middle trumpets flare up and restless bass lines flutter and pulse with the energy of the night owls prowling the streets about. By the end everyone is worn out and Waits lets a simple piano slowly trail off with the rising sun. Like a good night on the town, the album is a journey you don’t soon forget.

Best tracks: New Coat of Paint, San Diego Serenade, Shiver Me Timbers, (Looking For) The Heart of Saturday Night, The Ghosts of Saturday Night (After Hours at Napoleone’s Pizza House)

CD Odyssey Disc 1061: Tom Waits

I’ve had a fun weekend, hanging out with friends, playing Ulti and watching the Miami Dolphins win in a thrilling second half comeback.

On Saturday, I went down to the local record store to get the new releases by St. Vincent and Courtney Barnett/Kurt Vile. Both records were amazing, and I’m looking forward to getting to know them better and one day – when the dice gods decide its time – review them.

Disc 1061 is…Alice

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? An out-of-focus Tom Waits sits on a tire, looking devilish.

How I Came To Know It: This was just me digging through Tom Waits’ discography once I knew I loved his stuff.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 17 Tom Waits albums, and while I like “Alice” competition is fierce. I rank it at #10 overall.

Ratings: 4 stars

Tom Waits’ music has always been fanciful, but “Alice” is even more like a weird fairytale than usual. These songs have a playful quality that shows that many years into his career, Waits is still having fun exploring and developing his approach to music.

The opening and title track, “Alice” is a moody lounge piece, with a romantic sound matched to lyrics that are foreboding and creepy. This is Waits at his best, a master story teller rasping his way through the song, accompanied by sexy trumpet flourishes. The song is dripping with great language, but my favourite section is:

“But I must be insane

To go skating on your name

And by tracing it twice

I fell through the ice

Of Alice.”

Awesome imagery exploring the dangerous draw of the narrator’s obsession with the title character. The songs are co-written by long-time Waits collaborator (and wife) Kathleen Brennan, and together they paint amazing word pictures. Elsewhere on the album, songs speak of eyes that are “fish on a creamy shore”, swimming pools “filled with needles and with fools” and hearts that pump wine rather than blood. It is a sumptuous feast of language that keeps you interested even after many repeat listens.

Not content with moody and pensive songs like “Alice” Waits also goes full weirdo, with his signature bells and syncopated percussion. How he can turn all these bangs, clangs and whistles into compelling music is beyond me, but he does it. “Kommienezuspadt” isn’t even in English (I’m guessing German but I have no idea) but it has such an irresistible energy I usually try to sing along anyway.

Waits lets his imagination explore in a lot of different directions. On “Flower’s Grave” he observes that “no one puts flowers on a flower’s grave” and on “We’re All Mad Here” he observes that your hip bones are shaped like a heart, after all that flesh is removed and you’re reduced to a skeleton. Creepy but compelling stuff.

“Poor Edward” tells the story of a man who has another face on the back of his head. We are never told why, it’s just another of Waits’ mad visions, and nestled among all the others on “Alice”, it somehow makes perfect sense.

Interspersed among all this delightful bizarreness, Waits mixes in tender ballads like “Lost in the Harbour” and “Fish & Bird” the latter of which tells the story of a bird that fell in love with a whale. They can’t be together, but yet their love endures. In the magical world of Tom Waits it all just makes sense.

Even though the record features plenty of troubling imagery there is a gentle romanticism that permeates “Alice” that draws you in and gives you comfort. This record is a favourite of Sheila’s and as a result gets a lot of airplay in the house, but despite the heavy rotation I’m always happy when it comes on.

Best tracks: Alice, Flower’s Grave, Kommienezuspadt, Lost in the Harbour, We’re All Mad Here, Fish & Bird, Barcarolle

CD Odyssey Disc 935: Tom Waits and Crystal Gayle

As is often the case, I’m double-booked with activities tonight, so I’m trying to squeeze this review in before company arrives. By checking the time it was posted you’ll know if I succeeded.

Disc 935 is….One from the Heart

Artist: Tom Waits and Crystal Gayle

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? This album is a soundtrack to a movie, and this is the movie poster. I think that’s Terri Garr’s back, walking away. Judging by that suitcase, I think she’s gonna be gone a while.

How I Came To Know It: I can’t remember. Sheila might have bought me this one to round out our Tom Waits collection, or I might’ve bought it for her for the same reason. We both like Tom Waits.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 18 of Tom Waits’ studio albums. While technically this one is a duet album with Crystal Gayle, I’m going to count it. So where does it land? I left a spot for it at #14 but it didn’t inspire like I expected it to, so I’m dropping it down to #17 and moving everything in between up one.

Ratings: 2 stars

Unlike most of the soundtracks in my collection, I’ve never seen “One from the Heart”. Consequently I had to take the music on its own terms, but really shouldn’t every album be taken that way anyway?

In this case, the music is a lot of early eighties lounge action, with its feet planted firmly in the tradition of fifties and sixties musicals. I half expected Frank Sinatra to stroll out.

Instead, it is Tom Waits (who wrote the whole thing) and seventies pop heart-throb Crystal Gayle. I mostly remember Crystal Gayle from duets with Kris Kristofferson and from the tingly feelings she’d give me when I would stare at her sexy album covers. I was a bit too young to fully appreciate it, but make no mistake – Crystal Gayle was the bomb back in the day.

She also had a great voice that was full and rich, with a lot of range and power throughout it. Usually she sang in a style that mixed country and pop, but on “One From the Heart” she sings a lounge-style jazz which works equally well for her.

The purity of her tone is a nice juxtaposition to Waits’ whiskey-and-cigarette’s rasp, and the best songs on the album feature them trading verses.

The songwriting is excellent and thoughtful, which is what I’ve come to expect from Tom Waits. Here Waits has embraced the old fifties and sixties jazz sound yet written original songs that sound fresh and interesting. If you like to sit and listen to old musical soundtracks from that era, you’ll probably enjoy this record a great deal.

Unfortunately, I don’t really go for a whole album of playful crooning, particularly when the songs are so focused on telling a story that they don’t stand out on their own. The story comes through just fine: boy and girl have problems and split up, or get back together or…something. I guess it would have helped to see the movie.

But the soundtrack doesn’t inspire me to seek it out. Listening to the story it felt like I was trapped in an episode of Moonlighting. Will David and Maddie get back together? Won’t they? Will I care? No, I won’t. The songs may be pretty and well dressed up, but the narrative doesn’t hold me. Kind of like Moonlighting after about season three...

There are Christmas songs on the album, so I am guessing the movie takes place over the holidays, (which would also explain the fireworks on the cover). The whole thing captures the feeling on the album cover as well: rain soaked streets, city lights and a lot of wistful walking. Usually I’m a sucker for this stuff, but for whatever reason I couldn’t get into it today.

There are lots of reasons to like this record. Waits writes a beautiful song and Gayle sings them with grace and just the right amount of playfulness. The stripped down instrumentation serves the vibe well, so the production also hits the right notes.

Yet, for whatever reason this record didn’t resonate with me. I do like a few songs quite a bit, but taken out of the context of the album they lose their punch. Within the context of the album, I don’t have the patience to wait for them to show up.

And so I am going to send this album on its way to a home that will appreciate it more than I did. It is a good record, and deserves better treatment than I could give it. Picture me in place of Terri Garr, heading out to find a musical relationship that works better for me and wishing “One from the Heart” all the best for the same.

Best tracks: Picking Up After You, Old Boyfriends, I Beg Your Pardon

CD Odyssey Disc 852: Tom Waits

Because the human mind loves pattern recognition, here are a couple of interesting facts. This is the third straight review of an artist where I’m into double digits for reviews. Also of interest, of the past 10 reviews, eight of them were released post-2000.

What conclusions do I draw from this data? First, when I like an artist, I tend to really like them. Second, I continue to find new music to listen to…kind of. Four of those eight recent albums are just artists I’ve liked forever that are still releasing new music.

This next album is an example of the latter.

Disc 852 is….Real Gone

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 2004

What’s up with the Cover? Artist name and album title. It doesn’t get much simpler. Tom has chosen a font that says “I love spray paint, but also murder.”

How I Came To Know It: Once again, this was just me drilling through the collection of an artist I already loved.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 19 Tom Waits albums but one of them (“Big Time”) is a best of so really, there are 18. Of those 18, I put “Real Gone” near the bottom of the pack at number 15. Tom Waits is very solid over his career though, so there is no great shame here.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Real Gone” is Tom Waits at his brave and craziest. It isn’t my favourite album of his, but I admire it for its pure uncut chutzpah.

Waits has been experimenting with his ‘weird circus’ sound dating back to 1983’s “Swordfishtrombones” (reviewed way back at Disc 149). However, from 2002 through 2004 he took all that clanging percussion and vaudevillian oddity to a whole new level. “Real Gone” is the third album released in that period (the other two being “Blood Money” (reviewed at Disc 235) and “Alice.” Unfortunately it isn’t as good as either.

All the ingredients are there. Tom’s voice has its usual style, ranging from ‘40-grit whiskey throat’ through ‘strangled homeless man’ (both are surprisingly enjoyable). The arrangements are still as innovative as anything I’ve ever heard in music and the underlying melodies are still strong and thoughtful.

This last item is the most surprising. The songs are packed with strange plunking of guitar notes, and the whacking of various unknown objects. These objects (usually actual drums, but who knows?) make sounds that go clang, boom or hiss (one song is actually called “Clang Boom Steam” and those are the three noises that establish the repeating riff). It would be easy to lose the melody amid all this. If you cut through all that, you realize these are traditional folk and blues chord progressions, repurposed to serve whatever bizarre carnival plays through Tom’s mind.

“Real Gone” is as crazy as they come. It isn’t for everyone, but I appreciate it. Unfortunately, the songs didn’t appeal to me as much as those on the two similarly styled records that precede it. I can’t put my finger on why, and I think it is just a matter of taste. Maybe Tom finally lost me in his quest to construct meaningful songs out of seemingly random percussion. With Tom it is never random, but at some point it can be clever to the point of losing the narrative.

While the music doesn’t grab me as much as a lot of other records, the lyrics remain strong. “Circus” is a spoken word track that isn’t at the same 5 star level of “9^th and Hennepin” off of “Rain Dogs”, but is still solid. Instead of telling the stories of a street corner, “Circus” introduces us to a variety of circus performers including Molly Hooey described in the following scene:

“And me and Molley Hoey drank

Pruno and Koolaid and she had a

Tattoo gun made out of a cassette

Motor and a guitar string and

She soaked a hanky in 3 Roses

And rubbed it on the spot

And drew a rickety heart and

A bent arrow and it hurt like hell”

Another reason I get my ink done by professionals, not carnies, but you can’t deny Tom paints a pretty picture of a lady who probably gives ugly tattoos. On a related note, what the hell is Pruno?

On “Baby Gonna Leave Me” Tom sings “If I was a tree, I’d be a cut down tree/If I was a bed, I’d be an unmade bed.” No one paints the disheveled down- and-out like Tom.

The best song on the record is “Make It Rain” which is dirty like a mud pit and energized like a poorly grounded electrical panel with one of those “Danger: High Voltage” signs on it. You shouldn’t touch either, but the riff is so infectious you do anyway. This song is a blues track about lost love that’s as down and low as they get. As Tom sings it:

“Since you're gone

Deep inside it hurts

I'm just another sad guest

On this dark earth”

Unfortunately, while “Real Gone” is good, it doesn’t consistently manage the level of tracks like “Make It Rain.” “Real Gone” is also ‘real long,’ clocking in at 16 tracks and 71 minutes. I think the album would be a lot tighter with about four fewer songs and 20 minutes less playing time.

Fortunately, even a weak Tom Waits album is still pretty good, and there is enough on here to warrant a solid three stars.

Best tracks:  Don’t Go Into That Barn, Circus, Make It Rain

CD Odyssey Disc 775: Tom Waits

I’m home from one of the most pleasant medical experiences I’ve ever had. I went to Therapeutic Edge physiotherapy for a shoulder injury I got playing Ultimate.

Not only did physiotherapist Ross McFayden diagnose the problem (a Type II separated shoulder) he gave me some acupuncture treatment to help speed the healing and some good advice besides. Thanks to Ross and the team at Therapeutic for getting me on the road to recovery!

The CD Odyssey is also on the road to recovery, after two full weeks of average to good CDs I finally rolled an album that truly inspired me.

Disc 775 is….Bad As Me

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? Tom’s out of focus face, grinning like a hyena. I guess this qualifies as a Giant-Head cover like so many others, but since it is Tom Waits it also has an element of weirdness about it.

How I Came To Know It: I’m a long standing Tom Waits fan, so this was just me buying his latest album when it came out.  

How It Stacks Up: We have 19 Tom Waits albums. I’ve now reviewed all but five of them so I feel pretty confident in stating that “Bad as Me” is one of the better ones. I’ll put it sixth best, knocking “Bone Machine” down one spot in the process.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Bad as Me” is Tom Waits at his best, taking traditional sounds and seemingly archaic language and blending them perfectly with innovative musical decisions and insightful modern observations on human nature. It is a refreshing masterpiece.

These songs have a timeless quality that makes you feel like they could have been composed in the mid-twentieth century, rather than ten years into the twenty-first. Waits has always been an old soul, even when he was starting out. Now that he is actually getting old, the whole experience wears on him beautifully.

His voice is like an old overcoat with holes in it that let the breeze in on a hot day, or a pair of fingerless gloves that have been stretched perfectly to your hands over the years. It feels shabby at times, but always comfortable and full of love.

Wait’s was over 60 when he made “Bad as Me” and his voice is holding up nicely. It is one of the advantages of having a scratchy old man’s voice to start with; you don’t have far to fall. That said, this is some of Waits’ best vocal efforts. On “Talking at the Same Time” he climbs into falsetto with the ease of Bruce Springsteen. Sure there is a bit more torture choking out of those notes than Bruce would need, but it wouldn’t be Tom Waits without it.

Every song has a beautiful melody, whether he is playing it sad and slow like an old crooner like he does on “Back in the Crowd” or fast and furious a fast-paced shuffle on “Chicago.” This album just seems to effortlessly find the right voice for every song. I’m sure it took plenty of effort, but by the time Waits gives you the finished product, you can’t imagine the song any other way than he presents it, weird circus organ, bizarre percussion and all.

Lyrically, this album feels like a throwback to post-war America, reinterpreted through the voice of a modern world-weary skeptic.

On “Raised Right Men” Waits’ has a laundry list of characters so classic you feel you know them just by their names: Mackey Debiasi, Gunplay Maxwell, Flat Nose George and Ice Ed Newcomb. These guys are out there keeping their hens happy (when they aren’t getting their teeth knocked out by them) until they eventually end up “on a slab”. The whole thing is both comical and noble, like a film noir farce.

“Bad As Me” is filled with the tales of simple men with complicated problems. “Face to the Highway” has a series of images that reinforce how the main character needs to wander:

“Ocean wants a sailor

Gun wants a hand

Money wants a spender

And the road wants a man.

I turned my face to the highway

And I turned my back on you.”

Simple images, but combined this way and accompanied by Waits’ careworn and threat-laced delivery they become dark and dangerous. I could write an entire English paper about just this song or half a dozen others on the record just as good. Unfortunately, I can’t because the album is so full of other great moments

Like Waits being lascivious and sinful on the title track with lines like:

“You’re the letter from Jesus on the bathroom wall

You’re mother superior in only a bra

You’re the same kind of bad as me.”

Or intimate and sensual on “Kiss Me”:

“The fire’s dying out

All the embers have been spent

Outside on the street

Lovers hide in the shadows

You look at me

I look at you

There’s only one thing

I want you to do

Kiss me

I want you to kiss me

Like a stranger once again.”

Waits is angry and directionless as a soldier with PTSD in “Hell Broke Luce,” romantically resilient as the last leaf on a tree in “Last Leaf” and tear-stained and nostalgic as a man thinking back on lost friends in “New Year’s Eve.” In short, “Bad As Me” takes on every facet of the human condition – and once even the condition of a plant – and gives every one of them all the solemn dignity they deserve.

Before I close I’d like to give a shout out to Waits’ wife Kathleen Brennan, who co-wrote all these songs. I don’t think Brennan gets enough credit for pushing Waits’ creativity, so let’s give her some here. She’s definitely one of the reasons that 38 years after he released his first album, “Bad As Me” is as innovative, interesting and engaging as anything Waits has done.

Best tracks:  Raised Right Men, Talking at the Same Time, Face to the Highway, Bad As Me, Kiss Me, Satisfied, Last Leaf, Hell Broke Luce, New Year’s Eve

CD Odyssey Disc 618: Tom Waits

Wow that was a stressful day. I wrote a large cheque for a home improvement project, and then followed that up with a 1-0 overtime win by the Bruins over the Habs. I feel like I’ve aged three years in three hours.

On to the next album which is a good one, so good that I’m once again delving into five star territory, despite the fact that it has 19 tracks.

Disc 618 is…. Rain Dogs

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1985

What’s up with the Cover? A woman and a man share a hug. The man needs a shirt. The woman needs a nicer shirt. This album needs a better cover.

How I Came To Know It:  For more detail on how I know Tom Waits see the review for “Closing Time” and “Frank’s Wild Years.”  Getting “Rain Dogs” was just digging through his discography after I was hooked.

How It Stacks Up:  This is classic Tom Waits, I put it second out of his nineteen albums, with only “Mule Variations” (reviewed back at Disc 455) topping it.

Rating:  5 stars

Chronologically wedged between the great albums “Swordfishtrombone” and “Frank’s Wild Years,” “Rain Dogs” captures what is best on both of them., and then some.

This is Tom Waits during his ‘crazy circus’ period, with inspired songwriting, featuring innovative percussion and frenetic syncopation, which makes you feel like you’re in a big top tent run by the devil himself. Ray Bradbury eat your heart out.

“Rain Dogs” takes old time song forms like the rhumba, tango and polka and reimagines them to serve the freakshow of characters the songs portray. There is a polka about trying to pry money out of a rich aunt and uncle before they die (“Cemetery Polka”), followed by people who hit the Cuban clubs to “Tango ‘Till They’re Sore.”

Over it all is Waits’ voice, which sounds like the second coming of Louis Armstrong crossed with Howling Wolf and then possessed by a homeless prophet.

On songs like “Singapore” and “Big Black Mariah” Waits rollicks along with a bouncy rhythm that is strange and wonderful, painting crazy pictures of excess that make you want to play along. You’ll be bouncing along merrily to “Walking Spanish” and then mid-way through realize it is a song about heading to your death sentence. Then you’ll forget yourself again and keep walking – the devil’s big top indeed.

In other places, he turns to spoken word magic, with the exceptional urban poetry of “9^th and Hennepin” which I think is the finest crossover of spoken word with music I’ve ever heard. To the sound of a piano tinkling in a minor key and the occasional whine of accordion or recorder, he paints a picture of a steaming, low-class end of town:

“Well it's 9th and Hennepin

And all the donuts have

Names that sound like prostitutes

And the moon's teeth marks are

On the sky like a tarp thrown over all this

And the broken umbrellas like

Dead birds and the steam

Comes out of the grill like

The whole goddamned town is ready to blow.”

Then when you think Waits can’t top himself, he takes the musical richness of songs like “Big Black Mariah” and the lyrical brilliance of “9^th and Hennepin” and delivers a series of ballads that are as touching and emotionally resonant as anything you’ll hear in his catalogue.

This album has at least three Waits classics that fit this category, “Time,” “Blind Love” and the oft-remade (but never equaled) original version of “Downtown Train.” These are songs about deep longing, with images that throw your mind back to the America of the twenties and thirties, but sound as current as if they were written yesterday.

They are timeless because tapping into the need for human connection, and how hard we lean out of our own comfort zones – sometimes to reach for it, and sometimes to flee from how it makes us feel. These are songs for anyone who’s stood out in the rain and got drenched because it was the only way they could get their exterior to match what they were going through on the inside. Like Tom Waits, we’re all rain dogs in that sense. From “Time”:

“When you’re east of East St. Louis

And the wind is making speeches

And the rain sounds like a round of applause

Napoleon is weeping in the Carnival saloon

His invisible fiancé is in the mirror

And the band is going home

It’s raining hammers, it’s raining nails…”

Through “Blind Love”

“Now you’re gone

And it’s hotels and whiskey and sad luck dames

And I don’t care if they miss me

And I never remember their names.”

Each love affair on “Rain Dogs” is flawed in some way, but that makes it more beautiful and fragile. As Waits reminds us, it must be blind love, because the only kind of love is stone blind love. If you’re busy looking around wondering what’s happening and why, you’re doing it wrong.

This album has a gratuitous 19 tracks – five more than my usual maximum. For this reason, when I started writing this review I planned to grade it down a star just to punish the hubris of it all. But it is only hubris if you over-reach yourself. When you write 19 songs this good then by all means put them on a single record – you’ve earned it.

Best tracks: all tracks. 

CD Odyssey Disc 455: Tom Waits

I have some chores to do at some point tonight, but rather than get them out of the way first, I’ve decided to turn such a Puritanical notion on its head.  First I’ll engage in a writing for pleasure, and when I’m done I’ll turn my focus to the things that ‘need doing.’

And on that note, dear reader, I give you the next review.

Disc 455 is… Mule Variations

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover?  A dark and troubled Tom Waits fades into the grey backwash of our imagination, but he still looks back and fixes us with his gaze.  This cover perfectly captures Tom’s unique blend of intimate and the strange rolled into one.

How I Came To Know It:  I’d known Tom Waits since back in the early nineties, but I didn’t get this album until much later after my appreciation for him had been re-invigorated by both Sheila and my friend Casey.  I bought “Mule Variations” as I was drilling through his catalogue.

How It Stacks Up:  We have 19 Tom Waits albums.  Of those 19 few can approach the mastery that is “Mule Variations.”  There are three or four that come close, but at the end of the day I’ve got to declare – Tina Turner-like – that “Mule Variations is simply the best, and better than all the rest.

Rating:  5 stars

When an artist has a career that spans nearly forty years you can usually expect a growth in musical style.  “Mule Variations” captures some of the best examples of all of Tom Waits various styles in a single record.

Here you’ll get echoes of Waits’ folksy beginnings with songs like the melancholy “House Where Nobody Lives” and the romantic “Picture in a Frame.”  These songs could fit just as easily on 1973’s “Closing Time” as they do here.

The best of this particular genre however is “Hold On.”  “Hold On” is one of my favourite songs ever, regardless of artist.  My MP3 player only holds about 400 songs, but despite the thousands of tracks competing for space, I’ve never removed it, and don’t see that changing any time soon.  This is a song that grabs me by the heart from the first strum of the Knopfler-like guitar and never lets go.  It is a song that always reminds me that life can throw a lot of curve balls, and sometimes just holding on is victory enough

Beyond how it makes me feel, “Hold On” is also a wonderful narrative of a love that on the surface is defeated by both time and distance, but that down deep will never die so long as the divided couple decide in their hearts that it won’t.  Waits captures the love of the downtrodden with his usual flair for imagery:

“Well, he gave her a dimestore watch

And a ring made from a spoon

Everyone is looking for someone to blame

But you share my bed, you share my name

Well, go ahead and call the cops

You don’t meet nice girls in coffee shops

She said baby, I still love you

Sometimes there’s nothin’ left to do

“But you got to

Hold on, hold on.”

The descriptors of the absent woman make her come alive in your mind, with fantastic turns of phrase.  Hearing about this woman “with charcoal eyes and Monroe hips” and a “broken-china voice” makes me not only imagine her; it makes me want to date her.

The production on these songs is big and soft around the edges, with that room-filling quality you get from Daniel Lanois at his best.  It isn’t Lanois, however, just Waits and his long-time partner in life and song, Kathleen Brennan.  In fact, I wonder how Waits would fare without Brennan’s muse.  On “Mule Variations” she co-writes twelve of the sixteen tracks, and she’s obviously a big part of his continued inspiration.  For Tom Waits fans everywhere: thank you, Kathleen.

Waits is also a master of the re-imagined blues song, and once again “Mule Variations” delivers some of his best work.  “Get Behind the Mule” is to an honest day’s work what “Hold On” is to a true love; you’ve got to just keep plugging away, and damned the obstacles – emotional, physical or otherwise.  “Cold Water” revisits Waits’ well-worn theme of the lives of the truly down and out.  In this case, the cold water is being splashed into a bum’s face by the police, as he awakens in a jail cell.  Again, the great turn of phrase paints an entire life in a single stanza:

“Blind or crippled

Sharp or dull

I’m reading the Bible

by a 40 watt bulb.

What price freedom

Dirt is my rug

Well I sleep like a baby

With the snakes and the bugs.”

And for those who’ve read my earlier Waits reviews like “Swordfishtrombone” LINK will remember that in the eighties he developed a sound all his own; a weird circus of percussion and bizarre topics over which he floats a raspy melody.  Again, “Mule Variations” doesn’t disappoint, delivering some great ‘weird circus’ work, starting with the opening track “Big in Japan” which sounds like a mad and drunken boast, yet somehow within that exaggeration it paints an amazing picture of the character behind it.  

Later Waits will take it one step weirder with the catchy “Filipino Box Spring Hog” a song that makes you feel like you need a shower, partly because the song’s title meat is “basted with a sweeping broom” and partly because you can’t get Kathleen’s ‘criminal underwear bra” out of your head either.

And although not as good a song, “Eyeball Kid” – a song about a kid that is nothing more than an eyeball – is so strange it demands your attention, and at least one throwaway line in this music review.

Waits delivers high quality folk, blues, rock and roll and even one of the finest spoken word pieces he’s ever done (the masterful ode to nosey neighbours, “What’s He Building?”) and wraps it all up into a three ring circus.  Despite ranging across every style he knows – including a few he invented himself – the record shifts gears as seamlessly as a sports car hugging a mountain road.  By the time it ends with the old-time religion inspired, “Come on up To the House” you feel you’ve already seen every room in Waits’ considerable musical mansion.

If you don’t have any Tom Waits and are wondering where to start, I highly recommend “Mule Variations.”  It is a little long at sixteen songs, but I can forgive this minor transgression; it had a lot of ground to cover and does it with nary a mis-step. 

Best tracks:  I like all the tracks, but favourites include Big in Japan, Hold On, Get Behind the Mule, House Where Nobody Lives, Cold Water, What’s He Building?, and Filipino Box Spring Hog

CD Odyssey Disc 445: Tom Waits

I apologize for the delay between my last review and this one, but this one was a mammoth album; 56 tracks over three discs.  Given its size, it faired surprisingly well.

Disc 445 is… Orphans:  Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 2006

What’s up with the Cover?  Tom Waits, surrounded by his favourite things; old junk and interesting characters. 

How I Came To Know It:  Sheila and I are both big Tom Waits fans, so we bought this when it came out.  I think this might’ve been a present in her stocking, or for her birthday or something.

How It Stacks Up:  We have 19 Tom Waits albums, which is most of them.  It’s hard to rank Tom Waits, since his style changes up so much over the years, but for “Orphans” I’ll go with bottom half of the roster, but still respectable at 13^th best.

Rating:  3 stars.

In a recent interview Tom Waits gave promoting his 2011 album, “Bad As Me” I recall the interviewer suggesting this was Waits’ first album of new material in seven years.  Tom politely disagreed, and I expect he was referring to “Orphans:  Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards.” “Orphans” is a three disc set full of songs that over the years Tom has written but for a variety of reasons never made it onto other records.  Not new material to Tom maybe, but new to the world, and very welcome when I first heard it.

Like “Lost Dogs” did for Pearl Jam, “Orphans” reminded me of just how great a singer/songwriter Waits is (although much of the latter praise must go to his wife and long-time collaborator Kathleen Brennan, who is as much responsible for Waits’ enduring brilliance as he is).

First of all, I love the names of these three albums, and Tom has selected where the songs appear with apparent care.  Disc One is “Brawlers” and leans heavily to a collection of lowlifes and their accompanying low lives.

“Low Down” is a rock n’ roll masterpiece about a rough-edged girl told through the eyes of a man who appreciates every sharp edge of her, especially her “red leather skirt way above her knees.”  I’ve appreciate the same girl – or one like her – in my own life.  Tom remains the master of the turn of phrase, edging out even masters like Dylan and Cohen at his ability to spout phrases that sound like they’ve been lifted right out of the twenties and thirties.  My favourite lines from “Low Down”:

“She's a cheap motel with a burned out sign

 She'll take care of you definitely every time

 She got a stolen check book and legs up to there

 Singing into a hairbrush, right in front of the mirror

 Oh yeah, my baby's lowdown.”

Other standouts are “2:19”, a catchy sing-a-long ditty about a man losing his girl, who is leaving on a train with a departure time matching the song’s title.  This song also demonstrates Waits’ brilliance with production decisions.  It is a basic riff, dressed up with a rogue’s gallery of sounds including two complementary funky electric guitar riffs, some kind of bongos in the background and a little jazz trumpet.  It should be a hot mess, but Waits blends it all seamlessly.

I also enjoy “Fish in the Jailhouse” a song about an inmate named, “Peoria Johnson” bragging that he can escape any jail by fashioning a skeleton key out of a fish bone.  His exultant tone that tonight’s dinner will, in fact, feature fish is so full of light-hearted bravado that you find yourself believing it is going to happen just listening.

Not so good on this album is “Road to Peace” a seven minute plus preachy song about the Middle East.  It isn’t a very good song lyrically or musically and it goes on way too long.  Waits doesn’t usually go so directly into political commentary and he doesn’t wear it well.  This song is a good reminder that if you decide to have 56 songs on one release, you are very likely going to get some misses.

Disc Two is “Bawlers,” which is generally more introspective and morose – good songs to have a cry to, while thinking about the hard blows life can deliver.

My favourite off this album is probably “Long Way Home” that strongly reminded me of Johnny Cash, reimagined in Tom Waits’ raspy ne’er-do-well style.  It’s a song about a man who loves his woman hard, but always seems to be threatening the relationship with self-destructive behavior.  As apology songs go, this and Steve Earle’s “Valentine’s Day” are about as good as they get.

By contrast, “Never Let Go” sings of a love that will endure regardless of any external pressure or poverty-stricken situation is thrown at it:

“Our ring’s in the pawnshop

The rains in the hole

Down at the Five Points I stand

I’ll lose everything

But I won’t let go of your hand.”

Never did a wedding ring mean so little and so much at the same time, as I hear Tom sing the hell out of these words.  Also, I love the reference to the Five Points of New York not as they are now – cold concrete, suits and the stink of money – but the Five Points of a hundred years ago, teeming with humanity and the stink of the lack of money.

The last disc is “Bastards,” which seems an unlikely collection of songs that don’t quite fit in either of the first two.  Illegitimate births of songs that cover the obscure and the macabre.

“Army Ants” is a spoken word piece that is Waits reciting a series of disturbing facts about the insect world.  Robber Flies injecting paralyzing fluid into their prey, Praying Mantis sex and its homicidal climax, and my favourite bit: “if you place a minute bit of alcohol on a scorpion it will instantly go mad, and sting itself to death.” In the song’s last moments, Waits ties all of this cold and alien behavior back to the human experience.  Listening to it made me delightfully itchy.

On “First Kiss” Waits paints a spoken word portrait of a woman who gave him his first kiss.  Delightful details throughout, seemingly unrelated to each other, but together painting a fantastic and grotesque character study:

“She drove a big old Lincoln with suicide doors

And a sewing machine in the back

And a light bulb that looked like an alligator egg

Was mounted up from the hood.

She had an easter bonnet that had been signed by

Tennessee Early Ford

And she always had sawdust in her hair.”

If it seems easy to write that kind of stuff, try it.  It rarely comes out sounding as fascinatingly specific as Waits - and his muse Brennan – can manage.

Yet just when you think you’re going to be lulled into the hypnotic recitation of Waits’ poetry, he comes at you hard with a song like “Dog Door” which with its heavy, sampled bass beats and crazy alien arrangements sounds like something that you’d expect to hear on a Beck album.  Waits has incredible musical range, which is why I’ve had to add four tags to this review just to categorize him.

I’m a fan of all three “Orphans” albums, although I think “Brawlers” is the best if I had to choose.  “Bawlers” is the weakest musically (although still good) and “Bastards” is entertaining but many of the tracks (even some of my favourites) have a novelty feel that wears a little thin on repeat listens.

All three albums feature a few remakes here and there.  Some of these are great, like his take on the traditional folk standard “Two Sisters” or the Ramones’ “The Return of Jackie and Judy.”  The Ramones did a fine version of Waits’ “I Don’t Wanna Grow Up” as well, by the way.

Other remakes, like Del Shannon’s “Sea of Love” or the Sinatra standard “Young at Heart” come off forced, as Waits tries a little too hard to make them his own.  Or maybe he naturally makes them his own, but they just don’t suit him.  Either way, I could’ve lived without these.

If I were to cream the top fourteen songs off of “Orphans” I believe the album would approach five star greatness; amazing given these are songs that didn’t make previous cuts.  However, at best this should’ve been a double album, and because of this I’m going to give it only three, but very close to four despite its excesses.

Best tracks (by album): 

From Brawlers:  Low Down, 2:19, Fish in the Jailhouse, Bottom of the World, Rains on Me

From Bawlers: Long Way Home, Tell It to Me, Never Let Go, Fannin Street,

From Bastards:  Army Ants, First Kiss, Dog Door, Altar Boy, Spidey’s Wild Ride, King Kong

CD Odyssey Disc 349: Tom Waits

Today I Googled my blog and was shocked to find it was coming up in search results.

When I first started blogging I tried to do it in as intensely a private way as was possible, given that I am posting things to the internet. Over the last little while I've loosened up a little and changed my privacy settings accordingly. So if you've been diligently keeping your promise not to share it with anyone, thank you very much for keeping your word; despite my gregarious nature I remain in many ways a very private person and doing a blog was not an easy decision for me.

That said, I'm ready to take the next small step. If you've been wanting to share this site with someone you think would enjoy it, go ahead and do so. I'll never commercialize this, and it is written too sloppily to market, but I'm not going to be embarassed of it anymore.

Except maybe the miniature painting - that is a little embarrassing, but I'll get over it.

Disc 349 is...Small Change

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1976

What’s Up With The Cover?: It looks like a visual depiction of track 7, "Pasties and a G-String." I think it is supposed to capture a moment in the strippers' dressing room, but it just looks staged to me. An interesting side note - the model in the picture is purported to be Cassandra Peterson (the woman who would later become famous as Elvira). There is an article on the avclub where she discusses it, saying she thinks it is her, but that her memories of the 70s are pretty hazy. So not confirmed, but feel free to speculate. For those interested, here's a link to the article.

How I Came To Know It: This is just me with my Tom Waits Fanboy hat on, drilling through his collection. I can't remember when I got this particular CD, but sometime 5-10 years ago seems likely.

How It Stacks Up: We have 19 Tom Waits albums, and all are enjoyable in their own way. "Small Change" is not one of my favourites though, and I'd say it is 17th or 18th and near the bottom.

Rating: 3 stars - weak Tom Waits is still good music.

"Small Change" is Tom Waits' third studio album (discounting 1975's live album, "Nighthawks At The Diner") and is firmly in his early folk/barroom period. My first exposure to Waits' music was his first album, "Closing Time" and as I recently mentioned when I reviewed "Heartattack And Vine" I like this period just as much as his later expiremental stuff.

That said, some of these early records are better than others, and "Small Change" just doesn't grab me the same way. It isn't anything I can put my finger on. The songs are well written, and cover the usual gamut of Waits' favourite topics. The tale-telling street kid in "Jitterbug Boy," the drunk in the process of getting cut off in "The Piano Has Been Drinking" and the fellow in "Bad Liver And a Broken Heart," who doesn't need any description beyond the song title.

Waits' lyrics are still some of the best street poetry you'll hear as well, and his raspy staccato delivery paints pictures in full colour. Some of my favourite "Waitisms" from the album include:

"and you can't find your waitress
with a geiger counter
and she hates you and your friends
and you just can't get served
without her."
(The Piano Has Been Drinking)

"Well she's up against the register
with an apron and a spatula
with yesterday's deliveries
and the tickets for the bachelors
she's a moving violation
from her conk down to her shoes
but it's just an invitation to the blues."
(Invitation To The Blues)

This is good stuff, but the album overall is not as consistently strong lyrically as other early records like 1977's "Foreign Affairs" or 1978's "Blue Valentine," and the music is not as melodic or interesting as his his first two records, 1973's "Closing Time" and 1974's "The Heart of Saturday Night." It isn't so much that "Small Change" is bad, but rather that it compares unfavourably to the amazing records that bracket it. The best song musically is "Tom Traubert's Blues" and even in that one the hook and chorus is a direct lift from "Waltzing Matilda."

The arrangements are very simple, consisting mostly of Waits idly tinkling on the piano, accompanied by Lew Tabackin's jazzy tenor saxophone. I'm not a big fan of saxophone noodling, but on this record it is used tastefully, serving mostly to add a whimsical background to Waits' half-sung, half-spoken poetic banter. On a couple of tracks Waits even does a little old school scatting and does it pretty well. Scatting is one of those things that everyone thinks they can do, but few can do effectively.

I had a good time listening to this record, which put me in a relaxed and mellow mood on my walks to and from work, but it isn't a record that I put on a lot, and not where I'd start if I were trying to get someone into Waits' music.

Best tracks: Tom Traubert's Blues, I Wish I Was In New Orleans, Invitation To The Blues

CD Odyssey Disc 346: Tom Waits

I've got one hell of sinus infection today, and sitting at the computer is not good for it. But the Odyssey doesn't take time out for sinus infections. If I'm going to get through this thing, I need to keep plugging away. So here goes another...

Disc 346 is...Heartattack And Vine

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1980

What’s Up With The Cover?: This is one of those covers that would be so much cooler on vinyl. The cover is designed to look like a newspaper, with the articles being the song titles, and the stories underneath the lyrics. I'd love to have this on vinyl, but I think it is still a good one on CD.

How I Came To Know It: Sheila and I have been heavily into Tom Waits for many years now, and this one was just me drilling through his collection. I believe we got "Heartattack And Vine" comparatively late, but we've probably had it a good ten years anyway.

How It Stacks Up: Very well. This album surprised me with how good it was. I'd say it is just out of the elite records, but still top half of our now 19 Tom Waits records at around 7th or 8th.

Rating: 4 stars.

"It's too early for the circus, it's too late for the bars."

This line, from "Savin' All My Love For You" thematically sums up 1980's "Heartattack And Vine." Excepting the "One From The Heart" soundtrack he does with Crystal Gayle in 1982, this is the last record of Waits' 'barroom' period. By 1983, Waits will be fully into his weird circus phase with "Swordfishtrombone."

The first signs of the strange song arrangements and wacky percussion that will come later are present on "Heartattack And Vine" but the band is still playing the songs pretty straight. It is an album that if recorded by Waits today would likely sound completely different. I don't think it would necessarily be better, though: unlike a lot of Tom Waits' fans, I like his early bluesy barroom period equally as much as the circus music he has since switched to.

Maybe it is because I like both styles, but "Heartattack And Vine" had a strong appeal for me on this listen. It has the best of both worlds. I do have some minor quibbles, in particular the muted use of the organ on a few songs. In later music, Waits' will make the organ sound like it is coming straight from hell, but on this record it is just kind of there. I wanted it to contribute to the weird, or go away. As it is, it just sounds a bit like a cheesy jazz club.

That said, the bass and drums are also played straight, and really work to give a low groove to every song. Waits' raspy whisky-laden voice is excellent on this album, and he shows surprising range for a guy who is never going to set the world on fire with his singing. At the end of the day, I wouldn't want anything other than the organ changed.

Lyrically, this is one of Waits' stronger records, as he delves into his usual rogue's gallery of derelicts, drunks, womanizers and loveable losers. Here are a few of my favourite lines, first from the title track:

"Boney's high on china white. Shorty found a punk
Don't you know there ain't no devil? There's just God when he's drunk
Well this stuff will probably kill you, let's do another line
What you say you meet me down on Heartattack and Vine?"

And these from "'Til The Money Runs Out":

Can't you hear the thunder? Someone stole my watch
I sold a quart of blood and bought a half a pint of scotch.

Waits captures the ill-considered lifestyles of the down and out with just a few lines and a couple of specific images, letting his listeners fill in the rest of the grime and dirt from our imaginations.

Although the whole album has a bluesy feel, the songs have a lot of range within the genre, with a good mix of up-tempo songs about excess and bad choices ("Heartattack And Vine," "Downtown," "'Til The Money Runs Out") and sombre slow numbers about lost love and regret ("Saving All My Love For You," "Jersey Girl," Ruby's Arms").

The only song that failed to impress was the instrumental, "In Shades." Even then it isn't that the song is bad, only that it doesn't really go anywhere sufficient to hold my attention. The other eight songs (yes, this album is nicely restrained at nine tracks) are all excellent, and hold up on their own, and connect well to each other when you listen to the record straight through.

In short, this record is a winner, and if you like early Tom Waits, this is a must-have. If you only want to hear his later, more avant garde stuff this might not be a record for you, although even then it will give you a good perspective on how that sound grew naturally out of his earlier, more traditional music.

Best tracks: Heartattack And Vine, Downtown, Jersey Girl, 'Til The Money Runs Out, On The Nickel, Ruby's Arms

CD Odyssey Disc 280: Tom Waits

This is my ninth Tom Waits review, breaking a three way tie with Alice Cooper and Queen to put Tom at the top of the list in number of reviews on the CD Odyssey.

This is also review #280, which is personally exciting, because it means I get to update my MP3 player with new music (I only do it every ten reviews). Why you ask? Because it helps to pace myself - and I like silly rules like that.

Disc 280 is...Franks Wild Years

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1987

What’s Up With The Cover?: Tom plays the accordion, over the top of various images, including a flying martini (which I would classify as 'wild') and what I think is the dark outline of the US Capitol building (which I would classify as 'not wild'). This cover is inoffensive save for the lack of an apostrophe in the album's title, which is definitely offensive. Punctuate, Tom!

How I Came To Know It: I referenced this record way back when I reviewed my first Tom Waits' album at Disc 40. As I wrote then, my friend Casey accidentally bought two copies of this album, and gave one to Sheila and I, thinking we'd like it. He was right.

How It Stacks Up: This is one of my favourite Tom Waits records. Of the eighteen we own, I'd put this one tied for 4th with the likes of Swordfishtrombone.

Rating: 4 stars.

Another great record from his 'bizarre circus' phase of songwriting, although this is the least circusy of all those records. "Franks Wild Years" is a concept album. The story is of a man living in a sad little town called Rainville, where it almost never rains. Our hero (Frank) dreams of leaving Rainville, and takes a fanciful journey of the mind to escape the duldrums of his existence, until eventually he finds his way back to reality. Or he actually decides to leave town, and we are witness to his adventures in excess. You're never sure what is real, and what imagined.

This is exactly the type of rich, uncertain landscape Waits' style is perfectly suited for, and the record has a whimsical feel throughout. This dreamy quality is punctuated by the decision to use so many contrasting musical themes throughout, ranging from the 'bizarre circus' of accordion and organ through to more traditional folk song sounds.

In fact, two songs appear twice, each time in two totally different styles. "Straight To The Top" is introduced to us with a Rhumba beat, and later redone in a Vegas style. "Innocent When You Dream" is first recorded in what Waits calls "Barroom" - which basically means it sounds like a bunch of drunks are singing it in the bar. Later, you hear the "78" version, which has that old school scratchy production you will remember if you've ever listened to your grandparent's 78s. This is likely where the drunks in the former version first heard it - or so we can imagine.

While this shows Waits' range, and also showcases how a good song can translate into many styles, I find it a bit excessive, and I could've lived without the 78 and Vegas versions respectively.

In fact, clocking in with 17 songs, and just under an hour long, the album is slightly too long, and I wish he could've trimmed it by a couple - and those two would be the couple.

That said, those minor criticisms are about the only bad thing I have to say about this record, which is both amazing to listen to, and bravely ambitious.

Songs like "Way Down In the Hole" are timeless, and sound like gospel blues tracks that were written seventy years ago. Steve Earle did an entire re-imagining of the song on his album, "Washington Square Serenade" in 2007, which is excellent, partly due to Earle's brilliance, but in equally large measure because of the high quality tune he had to work with.

The album has much to love on a lot of different fronts. The raunchy, hedonistic "Telephone Call From Istanbul" which converts the banjo from it's usual bluegrass plucking and replaces it with some kind of cursed instrument that when played steals your soul and replaces it with liquor. The lyrics reinforce that just about anything is possible in the dark corners of a large city:

"Sprawled across the roll top desk
The monkey rode the blade of an overhead fan
They paint the donkey blue if you pay"

and later a line that says 'let's party' since Hank Williams sang "comb your hair and paint n' powder/you act proud and I'll act prouder" in "Settin' The Woods On Fire":

"Saturday's a festival, Friday's a gem
Die your hair yellow, and raise your hem."

Waits takes us straight from excess celebration to the sombre, folk-like "Cold Cold Ground", with nothing but a stripped down guitar, bass, accordion and Waits' vocals, reminding us that the world of the bizarre is not limited to the city, and that there is plenty of excess driven by the quiet despair of a rural town:

"Gimme a Winchester rifle and a whole box of shells
Blow the roof off the goat barn let it roll down the hill.
The piano is firewood, times square is a dream
I find we'll all lay down together in the cold, cold ground."

The album ends with the sombre, "Train Song" as our hero returns to sad reality - whether that means back in Rainville, or just awake is unclear.

This is a great record, and a pretty good introduction to Tom Waits. Although I think it is slightly eclipsed by a handful of his other records ("Closing Time", "Rain Dogs" and "Mule Variations") it is close behind them.

Best tracks: Hang On St. Christopher, Temptation, Way Down In The Hole, Telephone Call From Istanbul, Cold Cold Ground, Train Song

CD Odyssey Disc 235: Tom Waits

This review brings Tom Waits into a tie for first with most albums reviewed, at eight. Congratulations Tom!

Alice Cooper remains in second, and it just so happens I wrote this review while wearing an Alice Cooper tour shirt. I'd like to see Waits in concert some time as well, but I fear I've missed my chance. You never know...

Disc 235 is...Blood Money
Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 2002

What’s Up With The Cover?: A disturbed looking Tom Waits shows us his hand of old cards (hint: their size gives away that they're old). I see he's got a bit of cash in there as well. Someone should tell Tom that the money is for betting, the cards are for holding, but with that look on his face don't expect me to do it. He's liable to knife me - but more on that later.

How I Came To Know It: I have written previously about how I cam to know Tom Waits (first on my own, then rediscovered through a friend). This particular album I first noted when I saw a video for the song "God's Away On Business" and really liked it. They used to use arty videos like that as filler when A&E still consisted principally of Arts and Entertainment. Anyway, we didn't get the album until maybe five years later, during our hunt for all things Tom Waits.

How It Stacks Up: We have eighteen Tom Waits albums. This is one of my less favourites, I'd say somewhere between 14th and 16th. It's still good, but there is so many more that are better. That's the way of it, sometimes, as Tom would tell you if he were here.

Rating: 3 stars.

"Misery's the river of the world
Misery's the river of the world

"The higher that the monkey can climb
the more he shows his tail
Call no man happy 'til he dies
There's no milk at the bottom of the pail."

These lines, from "Misery Is The River Of The World" are the first words you hear when you put on "Blood Money", and it mostly goes downhill from here. This is one of the more depressing and dark albums by Waits, which is saying something.

Not musically, mind you, as "Blood Money" has strong melodies, albeit artfully hidden in very unique production decisions. Waits is deep into his 'disturbed circus' feel on "Blood Money" and as usual, he is defying the odds and making it work.

For all of its depressing nature, "Misery Is The River Of The World" is one of the record's stronger tracks. Hey - it doesn't have to be happy to be good, people! I also like the follow up track, the similarly cheery "Everything Goes To Hell".

The song I first heard on the A&E-aired video, "God's Away On Business" is still my favourite from "Blood Money". It takes the modern feeling of alienation from God moves it one step further; it isn't that God isn't there - it's that he's busy. It takes the feeling of metaphysical abandonment to a whole new low. My favourite image from the song:

"I narrow my eyes like a coin slot baby,
Let her ring, let her ring
God's Away, God's Away
God's Away on Business."

In earlier reviews we had Michelle Shocked with the too-cute suggestion that God was a real estate developer. Waits takes the cute right out of the idea. It's not that he's absent, it isn't even that he's just busy; he is actively not returning your calls.

This album is beautifully constructed, and the ideas are great, but it isn't an easy record to love. While I don't mind the sombre tone, I think it needs a little more range to really appreciate the lows.

For a similar but superior album, I'd go with "Alice" also from 2002 or go back three years to the 1999 masterpiece, "Mule Variations". But I'll talk about those records when I roll them.

Interestingly, when I went to check where this album fell in the Waits discography for that preceding paragraph I discovered that this record is actually music for Robert Wilson's version of the play "Woyzeck". That's weird - I just finished watching Werner Herzog's 1979 movie version of the same.

Knowing this makes this album's depressing quality much more understandable. "Woyzeck" is a disturbed portrait of a soldier who is abused and maltreated until he finally snaps and commits a bloody murder. It also explains why there is an instrumental on "Blood Money" called "Knife Chase". (Spoiler alert: the knife chase ends tragically).

"Woyzeck" the play also features a woman telling some kids an inappropriate bed-time story about a prince who goes to the moon only to find it is made of a rotten board - a story Waits will lift almost wholesale for another album (I think it is on 2006's "Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards").

If you are a hard core Tom Waits fan, you'll enjoy this album - maybe even love it. If you're only a casual fan, I wouldn't start here.

Best tracks: Misery's The River of the World, Everything Goes To Hell, God's Away On Business, Starving In The Belly Of A Whale, The Part You Throw Away

CD Odyssey Disc 193: Tom Waits

There was a tie between Alice Cooper and Tom Waits for most albums reviewed at six. The tie is now broken.

Disc 193 is...Foreign Affairs
Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1977

What’s Up With The Cover?: A continental looking Tom Waits poses in sultry fashion with a woman I can only assume is foreign - you can tell by the passport. As covers go, this is a cool one. If I could improve upon it, I might've gone for a slightly less 'monster mash' font for the album title, but this is a minor quibble.

How I Came To Know It: Just Sheila and I drilling through the Tom Waits collection. I think this one came to us a little bit later - maybe the last five or six years.

How It Stacks Up: We have eighteen Tom Waits albums. This one is not one of my favourites - I'd say it is in the bottom four, so somewhere between 15 and 18.

Rating: 3 stars.

This album, like the previously reviewed "Blue Valentine" is near the end of Waits' bluesy early period and actually comes out right before that album (which I reviewed back at Disc 98).

Musically, I found this album fairly boring. It is mostly simple blues tracks played on piano, with a bit of jazz thrown in. I think the music was ill-suited to a car ride, and so suffered on this listen, with each song blending into the next in a fairly unnoticeable way. In fact, I had to actively remind myself to keep coming back to it and pay attention. It was almost like Waits wants us to hear it as though it was playing on some old stereo in another room.

This is too bad, because the lyrics are strong, and the stories Waits tells are worth hearing. As ever he is the master of bawdy street talk, and loveable characters that paint their own personalities while talking about something else.

Consider these first eight lines of "Jack & Neal":

"Jack was sittin poker faced with bullets backed with bitches
Neal hunched at the wheel puttin everyone in stitches
Braggin bout this nurse he screwed while drivin through Nebraska
And when she came she honked the horn and Neal just barely missed a
Truck and then he asked her if she'd like to come to Californy
See a red head in a uniform will always get you horny
With her hairnet and those white shoes and a name tag and a hat
She drove like Andy Granatelli and knew how to fix a flat."

That is some good stuff, and the other songs are just as entertaining.

An interesting aside, Bette Midler guest stars on a duet called "I Never Talk To Strangers" and does her best Billie Holiday impression - or at least that's how I heard it. The song itself is just a little too forties radio for my tastes, but I'm sure that is part of what Tom Waits wants it to sound like.

I don't have much more to say about this album. It refuses to command your attention, but rewards you when you give it. I probably enjoyed this record for two stars worth, but when you take the time it is easily three or four.

Best tracks: Muriel, Jack & Neal, Burma Shave, Foreign Affair.